


you talk too much

by muselives



Category: Inception (2010)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:57:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1210147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muselives/pseuds/muselives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped in a closet on a job, Arthur and Ariadne can't seem to agree to stay quiet for long. [Porn Battle XII, Inception, Arthur/Ariadne, tease]</p>
            </blockquote>





	you talk too much

**Author's Note:**

> Just glanced at my prompt list and thought this would be easy. It ended up attacking my brain with banter but I loved the way it turned out. Posted for Porn Battle [here](http://oxoniensis.dreamwidth.org/40106.html?thread=6322602#cmt6322602). Spoilers through the movie. Beta courtesy of [](http://sunblessed.livejournal.com/profile)[**sunblessed**](http://sunblessed.livejournal.com/) and [](http://endarspire.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://endarspire.livejournal.com/)**endarspire**.

Arthur seems composed. Really, she knows right now he's cross. "You're enjoying this." 

"So are you," she murmurs, shifting her hips against his just enough to prove her point.

He wisely elects not to answer that taunt. Trapped in a small space like this one, their best bet of not being found requiring silence, they probably should at least be leaning against opposite walls and feigning disinterest in each other. Instead his arm's wrapped around her waist and her leg is between his and they're as close as two people can be before someone starts ripping off the other's clothes.

It won't be Arthur, she thinks. He's been well behaved since their first job, if that kiss can even be considered misbehaving. Honestly the man is so buttoned down (literally too, damn it) that it makes her want to scream.

Only, not now. That would be trouble for both of them.

"Stop," he whispers.

"Stop what?"

"Thinking about this."

She glares up at him. "I can't. How can you?"

"I didn't say I wasn't."

At least that gives her something new to think about as they stay in this space, pressed up against each other, listening to the distant echoing footsteps of the complex guards. Where the hell is Eames? How long are they going to have to stay here? Honestly, how much more of this can she take?

"Ariadne." His voice is almost a growl.

As if that helps. Fighting off a shiver, she whispers back, "What? I keep having flashbacks to high school. The guy they stuck me with wasn't interested."

"Probably wasn't straight."

She smiles. "I was an ugly teen."

"Now that," he answers quietly, his gaze still on the door, "I just don't believe."

She gives him a second and then asks, "So what's your excuse?"

He turns to look at her. The lighting's for shit so his already careful expression is harder than usual to read. She can feel his hand sliding across her back before she hears him murmur, "Fuck it," his other hand coming up to grab her hip and spin her around.

Her back doesn't make too much noise when it hits the wall. Neither does she, although that's more out of respect of the fact that will probably get them caught. His mouth finds hers and this kiss has none of the chaste playfulness of the hotel lobby. It's hungry and unpredictable, not at all the meticulously controlled planner she thought she knew so well.

God, as if she wasn't wet enough already.

Not a lot of foreplay this time ( _this_ time?). He pushes up her skirt and she holds it while he pulls her nylons down. He doesn't even bother at first with her underwear, just teasing her through it, fingers working cleverly to elicit a response.

Dangerous to be verbal right now. Ariadne uses the kiss to help what her self-control can't keep down. Still, it's certainly the quietest she's ever tried to be and she's trying. Otherwise he might stop and then she'd have to kill him and the guards would definitely hear that.

"No," he murmurs against her lips when her hands start sliding to the front of his slacks.

Her fingers catch on his belt loops. "Please?"

His hips buck slightly. "Bad idea," he growls.

"Which part?"

He doesn't answer, just pushes her panties aside and teases her directly, fingers slipping in to stroke her light and quick.

That distraction only lasts a minute. "Arthur," she whispers, breathing ragged, "You might shut me up for a minute but if you don't play fair, I'm going to spend the rest of the time we're trapped in here telling you exactly what I'm going to do to you when we get out."

He considers this for a moment, thankfully without stopping his hands. "I'm worried about your self-preservation instincts," he informs her at last.

"Safety is relative," she remarks as she undoes his button and fly.

After that, they stop talking. They're not quiet but at least it's not words. It's a risky enough interlude so he only goes slow enough to give her time to adapt to him, driving into her with one fairly smooth thrust. Courtesy goes out the window after that. When their mouths aren't preoccupied with each other, they're doing their damnedest to keep down their breathing and whatever other sounds might otherwise escape. The footsteps are still pretty distant, at least as far as she can tell, though she'd be the first to admit her focus right now doesn't really tend that way.

Maybe he's impatient, maybe she's just frustrated this has to be quick, because his hand slides between them and she almost protests when he starts teasing her clit with his thumb. She's already too close and it pushes her over the edge like he doubtlessly wanted. She at least remembers herself and limits herself to a whimper when her head falls backwards and her mouth opens, what should by rights be a much louder cry.

She's hardly had a chance to come down when he follows, making her moan, perhaps her loudest noise in this entire interlude. Her head falls against his shoulder and he braces himself against the wall and they just stand there for what feels like ages before he pulls back to help her redress.

Well, they're definitely rumpled and a shower will be the first order of business when they get out of here but Ariadne remembers her promise. They switch places again and this time as she rests against his chest, she's not thinking, she's just counting the spaces between the beats of his heart.

Footsteps draw closer eventually and Arthur goes for his gun, arm wrapped protectively around her, braced for the worst.

Eames looks curious only for a moment before a knowing passes over his features that lingers in his eyes. "Ready to go home then?"

"Ready," she answers, standing up, hands uselessly smoothing down her skirt.

"Ready," Arthur repeats, putting his side arm away.

"I'd apologize for being late," Eames begins with all his usual mischief.

"Since it's unprofessional," Ariadne cuts in.

His eyebrows jump as he watches her walk down the hall. "Pot, kettle."

"I'm not apologizing." She looks over her shoulder. "Well? Are we going?"

For the first time since they started planning this heist, she sees Arthur smile. "Yeah," he nods slightly, "Right behind you."

And just for that, she puts a little extra sway in her step as she walks.


End file.
